Black and White
by Dr. Hoodoo
Summary: In the mountains of Virginia the Winchester boys find themselves balls deep in witches, witches and more witches...what could possibly go wrong?
1. Up A Hill

"If we can find this bitch by nightfall, I'm going back for that blonde at Fat Al's," Dean quipped as he ascended a rocky bank, grinning back at his brother. He whistled as he groped an imaginary ass only he could see.

Struggling under the weight of extra arsenal and supplies, Sam grimaced at Dean as he trudged behind him, "I'm still not sure _A _bitch is what we are dealing with here. This seems more like group rate kinda hunt"

"OK, _bitches_. We're after a coven of _bitches. _One bitch, two bitch, three bitch...gank," Dean scoffed as he snapped a pine branch out of his face. Sam scowled at his brother's back as they continued their climb.

"You know I still don't get it, man. Sheep at the crossroads, goats in churchyards, seven dead priests and a regular Mayberry with a sudden demonic spike, something about this job just doesn't add up?"

"Isn't that how is usually works?" Dean asked raising his arms, "Peaceful towns become too peaceful, then some demon blows into town and shakes it all up, strikes a pact with an unsuspecting schmuck or two...then BAM!"

"That's the problem, this town wasn't always a Mayberry. Until about five years ago it was full of drugs, gangs, thugs, just a regular sprawl of delinquency and negligence. Then suddenly its like the town was bleached and became a little stepford of the south-east. Then its like an overnight occult hotspot, sacrifices, deaths by natural disaster, deaths by no clear means, poltergeist activity...the list just goes on and on."

As they crested the ridge Dean turned to his little brother, "So its more than our garden variety evil, maybe a crossroads deal gone sour?"

"Nah, the time frame is too short for a crossroads deal. It looks like witchcraft, big witchcraft. The kind you don't find in suburban Wicca groups, burning Nag Champa and bringing _The Secret_ to book club." Sam adjusted his knapsack as he came to rest beside Dean letting out a sharp breath. The boys had never had a soft spot for witches, their human desires and emotions made them loose cannons, loose canons the boys would much rather avoid.

The boys rested for a moment, discussing the gaps in the details of this case. Neither brother heard the men's approach from behind them as they talked, maybe they were off their game or maybe it was just a run of bad luck. Even the loose rock and fallen leaves betrayed them, they never heard nor saw their assailants as the brothers were knocked unconscious and bound.

0*0*0

Sam woke with a start, bound to the trunk of a tree, the back of his head throbbing, causing his vision to shift in and out of focus. His peripheral vision revealed what looked like two men rummaging through bags, his and Dean's if he had to guess. It had been a long time since they had been mugged, it would've been a nice change of pace if they weren't on the trail of a killer witch in middle of nowhere. They really didn't have time for this.

Craning his neck, Sam nudged his brother's head that was lolled over at his shoulder, "Dean...Dean...Dean," he whispered, rolling his eyes at the fact that Dean was actually snoring and no doubt drooling on his shoulder.

With an indignant snort, Dean snapped awake pulling at his restraints, groaning from sudden movement that aggravated his tender head,"Son of a bitch."

"Well look who's awake Luke," said a stocky man, as he stepped into the boy's direct line of sight.

The man was dressed in various shades of brown leather, that looked as if they had been patched together from years of wear, his face was ruddy and unshaven reminiscent of Grisly Adams. He looked like the kind of guy that would smell even if he was cleaned up in a suit and tie.

"Ooo, well _witch_ and _twitch_, rise and shine, it's just about barbeque time, 'eh Larry?" came from Luke, the taller of two dressed in a similar manner, with a hawk-nose and sallow colored skin. He looked taut and spindly like he'd been stretched out to his height, not like he was built for it like Sam. The man was somewhat unfortunate in appearance.

"We've been tracking you boys for a copula' days now, all those little Satanic breadcrumbs you've been leavin' about. I gotta admit, you weren't as tough as we thought, some o' the easiest witches we've took down," Larry drawled, sweeping a lazy hand in the direction of the two boys, a coy smile at the corners of his lips.

Dean laughed, wincing a little, from the effort it took, "I think we got off on the wrong foot Pocahontas, you see we..." Dean shook his head toward Sam, "...ain't no witches."

"Then I guess you just tripped over this bag full of books on demons and black magic, ceremonial knives and herbs pouches along with a whole buncha' other woo-woo shit."

"Well I guess you can't fix stupid," Dean muttered, grinning at the two goons, in his usual cocky manner.

The shortest of the assailants, Larry, huffed in agitation as he retrieved two unlit torches laying nearby and set them ablaze, "Funny how 'stupid' is gonna' burn your ass, pretty boy."

Luke pulled a worn and tattered book from a bag sitting behind him. He opened the book to a page marked by a rosary, which he rolled in fingers as he began to chant in Latin, "In nomine sancte Pater lumen cæli, et in sublime appello mala animae daemonium habentis maleficia ambustum. Quod regnat in caelo appareat tua in terris nomen multitudinem Sancti Amen."

Sam and Dean sprung from the bonds that Dean had slowly been working at with a pen knife and took the other two men down. Dean smirked as he punched a very dumbfounded Larry across the jaw, spraying blood across the forest floor and sending the man flailing into a pile of dead leaves.

"Why didn't it work?" Luke coughed as Sam slammed him to the ground with a booted foot, effectively silencing him as the air was knocked from his lungs.

"Why didn't what work?" Sam demanded pressing his foot against Luke's sternum, eliciting a strained grunt.

Larry rose, wiping his lip with the sleeve of his tattered coat, "That chant. That was Holy magic, meant to burn the powers outa' a witch. You two should be screamin' for the devil himself right about now."

Dean knocked Larry back on his ass with an uppercut to the chin, "Like I said Pocahontas, we...aint witches. Now do you mind explaining why the sam hell you just tried to gank us?"

"We thought ya'll was witches," came from underneath Sam's foot.

Dean spun around to Luke's prone form, "You say that one more time Sacagewea-man, and I'll gut you right now. We are not witches."

"Look, we was jus' followin' a trail. Every sniff we got you was there, every goat, every dead body...there you were. What would you think?" Larry asked, rising from the ground.

"I would THINK about doing a little damn research before I go knocking people out in the middle of the frickin' woods!" Dean shouted.

"We've never been wrong before. Never had to guess if we had witch, 'cause we always did. This town is full'a unnatural happenin' and balck magic, we've already tripped over a witch once , figured you was part o' the coven when all the signs kept leading us to you."

"Well you'd be wrong in that assumption," Dean chuckled.

Sam removed his foot from Luke's chest and held out his hand to help the man up, "Well I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean. We're hunters...of the paranormal...I think we're tracking the same thing...or things. So truce?"

Luke took Sam's hand and let himself be helped to his feet, "Truce. I'm Luke, and this is my cousin Larry. We're uh...witch hunters 4th generation actually. We've been doing this for as long as we can remember, and honestly we've never had a red herring. So honestly, sorry about that."

"Ah what's a rock to the back of the back of the head anyway, its not like were really using our brains?" Dean asked waving dismissively. Sam shot Dean a dirty look.

"I gotta ask though," said Larry, "What's with the bag of tricks?"

"Call it our little witch doctor bag. We got the cure for what ails," Dean answered.

The four men talked for a while about the job and the contents of the Winchester's bag, which intrigued and perplexed the cousins. The boys exchanged info and past experiences, explaining a few of the items they used and learning of some they had never heard of before, as Luke and Larry described their methods of tracking taking down witches.

They learned that this town had a long history with witchcraft and various supernatural occurrences, that it was some kind of power source for evil and the witches took advantage of that fact. It seemed that the town hinged on the whim of the witches that inevitably inhabited it. When they were in a good disposition the town would prosper and undulate with blessings and good intentions. When something crossed whatever witches might be in town, it suffered the back lash of their ill intent.

"That explains the re-lapse into Sin City," said Dean, "And you said that you already got one of these bitches of Eastwick the other day?"

"Yeah, tracked her out to an abandoned family cemetery. Looked like she'd been there more than once too, the ground was disturbed and headstones covered in wax and dried herbs."

"She give you any clues to the whereabouts of the rest of her coven?" asked Sam.

"No. Chances are she was a solitary witch, or working outside her coven, but there were no indicators that anyone else was working with her."

There was a deafening boom as a bolt of lightning seared through the mountain air. It made contact with the tree directly behind the four men, raining down bark, splinters and burning leaves as they were knocked down by the force of the hit. Thunder rang in their ears.

Neatly, as if it had been sawed in halves the tree fell to the left and right of the prone men, "What the fuck!" Dean exclaimed.

As the men turned to look at the smouldering tree, and various tree related debris, a figure approached beyond the haze of the smoke. A small breeze picked up, creating dirt-devils of ashes, leaves and embers. As the breeze pulled away the wall of smoke, the figure drew closer.

"That _bitch _was my sister," came a female voice, "that _bitch_ wasn't alone." Another bolt of lightning flew through the sky splintering through a tree on the opposite side of the boys.

Sam and Dean rolled for they bag, quickly pulling two shotguns from the worn canvas bag. The guns were quickly ripped from their grasped by the unseen powers of the witch, who now stood where the tree once had smirking at Sam, Dean and the cousins scrambling in the leaves looking for their tools.

She was a petite, brunette, tan with a round face and large does eyes. She wore a black sundress that hugged her shapely form, and showed off her long legs, her feet were bare, yet somehow clean, her hair hung in soft ringlets around her face.

"Men, put a gun or a penis in their hands and they're sure to just start waving them around until they hit _something, _huh," the witch laughed as she twirled a lock of her hair, "Anyways. My fight is not with you, leave me the killers and I will return the favor."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, "Well thats a nice offer lady, and believe me I could think of a few hundred ways you could repay me but..."

"I don't have time for this," the witch exclaimed as she raised her hands and threw both Sam and Dean into the air and let them land a few yards away on a pile of rocks.

She then turned her back and walked back toward where Larry and Luke were digging through their bags, and then unconsciousness took them.


	2. More Questions Than Answers

**Author's Note: First chapter felt a little shaky, I'm still getting my sea legs back as it were. Please feel free to review and provide criticisms, I could use some feedback good and bad so don't shy away from the keyboard. **

Dean opened his eyes after being knocked unconscious for the second time in a two hours, this was getting old and he felt in serious danger of loosing what little brain cells he had left after years of hunting. His eyes strained to stay focused as lights danced around out side of his vision. Lights danced around?

Dean sat up painfully just in time to see Luke and Larry light a small pyre they had laid the witch on. They said a prayer in Latin as the flames rose quickly, filling the air with the acrid smell of burning hair and flesh. Dean nudged Sam awake.

"How exactly how do you boys hunt if you're always jus' layin' around?" Larry asked walking over to the boys.

"Funny," Dean replied sarcastically.

"You guys must not have had much trouble taking her down," Sam stated as he pulled himself from the rocks, groaning from all kinks the rocks had created in his back.

Luke chuckled quietly, "That's what we were trying to tell you boys, witches is our specialty. Maybe all those demon you killed with your magic knife have left you a little soft."

Dean huffed with agitation. It didn't seem possible that these two old men took out super bitch and didn't take a scratch of damage. It also didn't make sense that she was so dead set on Luke and Larry and just tossed Him and Dean aside like little rag dolls. Normally witches were willing to take out whom ever was after them and didn't really make distinctions about who they killed.

"So I guess your first witch wasn't working alone after all?" Sam asked.

"Guess not," Luke answered.

"Now the question is where are the rest of them at, because I'm thinking when she said sister, she didn't mean _sister_," Dean said, pushing his doubts to the back of his mind for later.

"Well it's possible they could have been sisters," Sam corrected much tot he agitation of his brother, "but you're right she was more than likely referring to a coven when she said she wasn't alone."

Luke turned his head and said something quietly to his cousin, Larry. Dean and Sam just exchanged curious glances during the awkward non-silence.

"I think that it'd be best if we called it a night and pick up the trail in the mornin'. It's more likely these witches will get restless and careless once they realize another one o' their own has gone missing."

"Can't really argue with that logic," Sam scrawled on a receipt from his pocket, "Here's my cell if you wanna compare notes or need a hand."

Larry took the number and folding it placed it in his front pocket, "Will do. An' try not to let us find you passed out in a ditch somewhere," he laughed as he stooped to gather his supplies from the ground and placed them in his bag, Luke followed his example.

All four men gathered up their scattered weapons and said their goodbyes before leaving the site and extinguishing the remains. They left in the same direction they had come, Luke and Larry split off on an alternate trail about three-quarters of the way back. Sam and Dean made their way back to the Impala, parked at a rest area a mile away.

"Was it just me, or was that whole thing just weird?" asked Dean as he started up the Impala and pulled it out of the empty rest area.

Sam looked over at his brother, brows furrowed, "Hasn't this whole job seemed off from the word go? It's like we're in a twilight zone episode, and that's saying something."

"And witch hunters, WITCH HUNTERS, how have we never met a witch hunter. And how the hell are they so special that they can take one down without breaking a sweat, that just ain't natural?" Dean beat his fist on the steering wheel in frustration.

Sam watched the trees roll by as they drove down the highway back toward their motel, "The witch had no interest in us. Despite the fact that we had weapons and the intent to take her down , she just...ignored us."

Dean's grip tightened on the wheel, "It's like she had a vendetta."

"Well if their family has done this for years maybe it was something that she could sense in them? Maybe she had a long standing hatred for them and maybe even their family."

"Maybe," Dean answered, "But my gut just keeps telling me that we don't have all the pieces to the puzzle."

O*O*O

After returning to their room, cleaning and storing their weapons, Dean decided to make a call to Bobby to see if he knew anything about Luke or Larry. The answer was an unsurprising no, but Bobby did agree to check some contacts and shake the proverbial grapevine. Bobby did confirm that he had come across witch hunters before, so that was legit, but they were single-minded and potential loose canons, so he warned them to be safe. Dean thanked Bobby for the help and snapped his phone shut.

Sam sat at the corner of his bed hunched over his laptop, tapping away at the keyboard. Listening to Dean and Bobby's conversation while searching for old news articles about the witchcraft history of the town.

"So there is definitely a history of witchcraft and supernatural related deaths here in Gypsy Springs. Also going back fifty years there have been forty-nine dead priests, ministers and various church officials. Seven, killed by various means, every seven years."

"That sounds demonic, not witchy," Dean replied, sitting down heavily and popping open a beer.

Sam rubbed his chin thinking deeply, "That does sound demonic, but also ritualistic, which could tie it to demons or witches, maybe even demons working with witches. Which we know from experience is possible and hazardous at best."

"Well where do we go from here? I really don't want to just wait around for some other witch to show up so we can play twenty questions and hope to find some lead to figuring this whole mess out."

Sam went back to tapping away at his computer, "Well if this town is such a witch hot spot there has to be a place they go to for supplies, ingredients...witches have always relied on tolls and herbs, despite they generally have no power of their own without the witch."

"That's as good of a place as any to start," said Dean before tagging a long draw from his beer, "Did you get any hits?"

"Wow," Sam's eyes went wide, "OK there are several shops in the area specializing in Pagan and Witchcraft related goods." Sam continued scroll and tap for a few minutes as Dean finished off his beer. "Most of them look new agey, trying to appeal to the general public. However there are two that have been in operation for about thirty years."

"Does that mean something?" asked Dean.

"Yeah. These shops don't tend to have a long run, they're usually trendy appealing to only a certain niche of clients, who tend to jump from fad to fad. If these have been in business so long there is a definite need being met that keeps the buyers coming back for more."

"Any chance one of those is after hours?" Dean asked tossing his emptied bottle in the trash.

"Actually, yes. _Sacred Reliquary, your one stop shop for all of your occult needs open Noon 'til Witching Hour!_" Sam read from the computer screen.

"Well...lets go shopping."

O*O*O

Sam and Dean pulled up to the curb outside the Sacred Reliquary. It would have been hard not to find, as the shop stood out among the more urban sprawl. It was housed in a colonial style home, brick painted white with grey roofing and plate-glass windows with black shutters and although odd the outward appearance of the shop stuck out in its surroundings, it didn't seem very witchy.

Sam and Dean crossed the street and walked up a narrow cobblestone path to the front door of the shop, adorned by a brass lion. Casually the two brothers opened the door and stepped inside.

A collection of three brass bells chimed as door closed behind them announcing their presence to an unseen proprietor. The interior looked as historic as the outside, the walls were lined with antique curio cabinets and bookshelves filled with books, ritual items and various unrecognizable ingredients. The walls not inhabited by shelves contained works of art and woodcuts relating to witchcraft, and the thick, sweet smell of incense permeated the entire shop. In the back of the shop, visible from the front door was a fireplace housing a large quartz crystal with candles lit behind it giving the illusion of fire encased in ice.

Footsteps sounded on a set of wooden stairs descending into the parlor. A young man, roughly in his twenties stepped off the stairs, "Welcome to Sacred Reliquary," he greeted them.

The man was medium height and build, brown hair combed back over his head, and surprisingly normal looking. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a Ouija board print, he wore a silver pendant on his neck and the oddest thing about his was the black eyeliner smudged around his eyes.

"Can I help you boys find anything?"

"We're just more of browser's really, heard about the shop online," Sam offered, making conversation.

"You would not believe how many months it took to convince my aunt to let me make a website for this place. Word of mouth is good, but this ain't grandma's shop anymore, times have changed. I'm Steven by the way," Steven held out his hand to Dean in greeting.

"I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam," Dean responded as he shook the other man's hand, Sam responded in kind.

"So is there anything in particular your guys are browsing for, love potion, or maybe a poppet?" Steven asked as the boys continued to stand in the doorway.

"Poppet?" Dean asked.

"It's the witches' version of a Vodou doll, most people come asking for them to fix a boss or get back at an ex lover. The small sales are what keep us in business," Steven answered.

Dean smiled, "We'll you see were just stopping by on a business trip and were gonna be in town for a few days and were wondering what kind of things you might sell for protection."

"Protection. That's not a common request but it shouldn't be a problem."

"Yeah you see we've heard there's been string of murders and unnatural deaths in the area, maybe even a few of them witches," Sam continued.

Steven's head snapped up at the mention of witches, "Yes, these are dark times. Let us only hope that we don't lose any more witches to death nor darkness."

"Darkness? You think witches are going dark?" Dean asked.

Steven looked at him quizzically, "You don't know do you, what's happening, what's coming, whats already here?"

"No, we don't but why don't you fill us in?" Sam asked


End file.
